


Always You

by manfish



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: "only" wine, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Drinking, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, only wine, reference to religion?, whatever its spamano!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manfish/pseuds/manfish
Summary: It started with a kiss, as most bad things do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never actually watched Hetalia and I wrote this for a good friend of mine, so here's hoping they aren't too out of character!

It started with a kiss, as most bad things do.

  
They had been drunk, as they often were.

  
Lovino was mad, and Antonio was teasing, as they always were.

  
Antonio could outdrink anyone, but Lovino almost had him matched. If nights like these continued, they would surely be equals in no time. The crew had retired hours ago, and it was now just captain and cabin boy, leaned against each other against the wall of Antonio’s quarters, passing a bottle of fine Italian wine back and forth. It was the only thing Lovino liked. Antonio didn’t have much of a preference, but it was warm and sweet, and on a cold night like that one, it was the best thing for you.

  
Antonio rolled his head lazily along the wall to look at Lovino as he drank. He was tired. His ass was beginning to fall asleep, and he was sure the rest of him would soon follow. But he would never back down before Lovino. That was their dynamic. One said jump and the other one was sure to do a flip. Lovino was a quiet drunk. Antonio was a rambler, a quality that annoyed Lovino to seemingly no end.

  
“This is really good stuff, huh, Lov?” he started, the degree to which his vowels slurred surprising even him. “Made sure to keep an eye out for you las’ time we docked. Pretty ‘spensive, you know,”

“You did not have to buy it for me, bastard,” Lovino mutters, face flushed deep with intoxication. Antonio chuckles, warm and low in his throat.

“I didn’t buy it. I cut off a man’s fingers and stole it,” Antonio says, followed by a great belly laugh. He was exaggerating, as usual. He _had_ stolen it, but with a lot less theatrics than what he described.

“Sure,” Lovino sighs, passing the bottle back. Antonio takes it by its neck, staring at the boy out of the corner of his eye.

“You put on such a front, Lovino,” Antonio murmurs. _Lovino_ , the name always sounded wrong in his mouth. Lovino was a beautiful, smooth word, and it always sounded just a little too foreign in Antonio’s mouth.

“You wan’ people to think you are so…” Antonio paused to close his mouth when he hiccuped. “So damn serious. But you are just a… kid,” he hums the word, a small grin pulling at his lips. Lovino’s eyebrow twitches and Antonio knows he’s struck a nerve. He is delighted. Teasing the cabin boy was one of his favorite pastimes. “That’s why you’re always… hangin’ around me. I’m not your _mama_ , Lovino.”

Lovino turns to look at him. Antonio grins lazily at the glare he receives. He expects Lovino to hit him, to get up, to take the wine from him. He doesn’t expect Lovino’s lips against his, pliant and warm and uncoordinated. Antonio has enough of his mind left to pull away in a hurry.

“I don’t think you’re my mother, asshole,” Lovino mutters, glaring daggers at Antonio.

“Well, yeah, that’s obvious,” Antonio replies, and he doesn’t know whether to be angry or not. He didn’t care, not really. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with men. It was hard to avoid when you sailed with an all-male crew for months on end. But… Lovino was drunk… and young… and Antonio had _promised_ Feliciano no harm would come to him. Although, Antonio reasoned as he stared into Lovino’s intense amber eyes, this wasn't exactly _harm_.

Antonio’s drunken mind made a decision.

He grabbed the front of Lovino’s loose white shirt (one of Antonio’s old ones, if he remembered correctly), and pulled him forward, lips crashing against his. Teeth knocked together as they try to make their lips fit together properly, which proves to be quite hard when you’re this drunk. Things happen quickly, hands make their way into hair, Antonio lays back on the floor, Lovino straddles him. The tight warmth in his stomach snowballs quickly, as even though he’d never admit it, it had been an embarrassingly long time since he’d been touched by anyone other than himself. Lovino’s mouth tastes like wine so sweet its almost sour. He tastes like insults and swears, like small laughs shared in privacy, like the shuddery gasp he takes in when Antonio pulls his hair particularly hard. And Antonio drinks it all up, feeling more drunk than he’d ever been. His body is warm and loose, and he felt as though he could melt into a formless puddle beneath Lovino’s hands at any moment.

Lovino’s _hands_. He’s inexperienced, obviously, but he certainly isn’t shy. His fingers pull at the buttons of Antonio’s shirt clumsily, distractedly, until he finally pulls away to give them his full attention. A glint of gold between them catches Antonio’s eyes, and it seems the two have noticed it at the same time. A crucifix hangs between them on a delicate golden chain around Lovino’s neck. The two are both still as they watch it sway in the space between them with each of Lovino’s breaths. He straightens, and Antonio gets ready to apologize, because how could he be so _stupid_ , so _disrespectful_ , so _irresponsible_ , but Lovino’s hands go behind his neck, and he undoes the clasp finally, and balls the necklace up. He sets it on the ground about a foot away from them, as if that would forgive the sin the two were about to commit. Antonio rests his hands on Lovino’s hips, steady and hopefully reassuring to him.

“Okay?” Antonio hears himself ask, catching Lovino’s eyes. Lovino doesn’t answer, instead moving down Antonio’s body and nudging his legs apart. Inexperienced, but hardly shy, Antonio swallowed dryly as he watched Lovino’s fingers move down his inner thighs slowly, and can’t help but chuckle at his stiff nature.

“Come on,” Antonio mutters as he stands, and pulls Lovino up with him. He leads him to the bed, a lavish, feather-stuffed thing, adorned with multiple blankets and countless pillows. Needless to say, it is much nicer than the crew’s cots and nicer still than Lovino’s bedroll he usually slept on in the cargo area. Antonio lays down, pulling Lovino down on top him. The two sink into the soft bedding. The Spaniard almost whines about how tired he is, but is cut off by an impatient look from Lovino.

“Alright, alright,” he murmurs, letting out a soft, fond chuckle. Antonio wasn’t one for fast, uncalculated love, preferring a much more gentle approach. He unbuttoned Lovino’s shirt, and untucked it, pushing it off the other's shoulders. Lovino huffed out an impatient sigh, glaring down at him.

“If you don’t want to fuck me, then just say so. You don’t have to draw it out like this, asshole,” Lovino crosses his skinny arms over his chest and glares down at the Spaniard, who only laughs at him.

“I have never met an Italian as impatient as you, Lov,” Antonio replies and leans up to kiss him again.

They stay that way for a while, Antonio’s hands moving on instinct, following procedure he didn't recall memorizing. His hands move across Lovino’s warm skin, touching _here_ but not _there_ , gripping too light, grazing fingertips across skin so lightly goosebumps form on the cabin boy’s flesh. Antonio teases until Lovino is begging, not bothering with kisses anymore. The pleas come in a mantra, Lovino repeating himself and stumbling through his chant of _please_ , _please_ , _Antonio_. Antonio only obliges when Lovino starts to swear, the Italian harsh and desperate in the warmed air between them.

Antonio buries his face in Lovino’s neck as he stretches him utilizing a scented oil he’d purchased off some vendor or another a while back. Lovino smells like citrus and something else that fills Antonio’s chest with a sense of home, like that cozy feeling you get when tucked under blankets on a cold night. Lovino’s smell is dizzying, and Antonio can’t pull away. The brunette is pleading, gasping, on the verge of tears for him. Only for him. Antonio is overwhelmed with want, he can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize how he felt.

Because it’s always been Lovino, he realizes. The night after they first met, when Feliciano offered himself instead, Antonio insisted on Lovino. Every time they drank together, Antonio all smiles and Lovino reluctant smirks, Antonio was the only one who could ever make Lovino laugh. Antonio stealing stupid little things like wine and soap and interesting seashells from various vendors just for Lovino. It made sense they’d ended up here, Antonio thinks, as he pulls his fingers from Lovino, hushing the whine that follows.

Antonio goes slow for Lovino. His heart breaks when tears slip from the other’s eyes, but he can’t help but feel the same way when he finally bottoms out. Lovino is so tight, so hot, so perfect. He doesn’t trust himself to move, staying still to give Lovino time to adjust. He knows what it's like, how overwhelming your first time is.

“Please, _move_ , you _bastard_ ,” Lovino’s voice comes hushed and ruined, and Antonio doesn’t even have the heart to laugh. He feels just as desperate, if not more.

Neither of them last long, Lovino finishing first and apologizing for it after Antonio follows. That was another odd thing about Lovino. He was always polite at the weirdest moments, like he didn't know how to properly implement his manners. Antonio grabbed a rag from the bedside table and carefully cleans them both up, getting more tired by the second.

“I’m sorry,” Lovino says again. His eyes are wide, like a spooked horse. His face is flushed and his hair is a mess. “You didn’t have to do that. I understand if you--”

“Lovino,” Antonio cuts him off, finding his hand in the twist of blankets. “Be quiet.”

“But, I--”

Antonio cuts him off by nudging him until he lays on the bed. He rights them both so their heads rest on the pillows, and pulls the covers up over the pair. He doesn’t let go of Lovino’s hand. Antonio lies on his back and Lovino lays on his side, facing him. The Spaniard doubts himself for a moment, afraid that Lovino had apologized because he realized this was a bad idea, or that it wasn't really what he wanted. But then Lovino worms his way under Antonio's arm, looping his own around his bare waist. He rests his head on Antonio’s chest, and before either of them realize it, they’re both fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! Another silly chapter. Again, I apologize if the characters aren't completely true to source. I know little to nothing about these fools. Enjoy!

Antonio loved animals, but as he pulled a scared shitless--and bleeding--Lovino from the ground, he wanted to kill that market hound. It had run off before he had the chance to do so, and Antonio considered chasing after it for a moment.

  
Lovino _whimpered_ , and he remembered why he couldn’t. The dog had lunged at Lovino and latched onto his side, tearing a large hole in his billowy shirt. Blood began to collect in the white fabric and the sight of it made Antonio anxious. He looped an arm around the cabin boy’s waist, turning his attention to the small crowd that had gathered around them. He glared daggers at the merchants and townspeople, and they disbanded quickly as Antonio led Lovino through the congregation.

  
“I can walk on my own, bastard. You’re going to get blood on your coat,” Lovino says, voice strained with pain.

  
“It’s red for a reason, _amor_ ,” Antonio hums, glancing down just in time to catch the glare Lovino shoots him. Lovino liked to act like he hated the pet names, but Antonio knew he loved them just as much as he did.

  
It had been a few months since their drunken tangle in the sheets of Antonio’s bed, and they’d since had multiple repeats of that night. Antonio flirted with Lovino much more openly, something that made Lovino _blush_ , which he _hated_. The two had gotten so good at reading each other in the span of just a few months, it was a wonder they hadn’t secretly known each other their whole lives. Antonio knew when he’d pressed Lovino too hard, and Lovino knew when he hadn’t pressed Antonio hard enough. Antonio knew just where Lovino loved to be kissed, knew how much he loved that silly, wild hair of his to be pulled, he knew just how to press every one of Lovino’s buttons, for better or for worse.

  
“Holy shit!” a voice calls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Gilbert rushing towards them. “What happened to you?!”

  
Lovino grimaces and Antonio knows it’s not from the pain. Lovino has never been the biggest fan of Gilbert.

  
“A dog attacked him,” Antonio provides so Lovino doesn’t have to.

  
“Ah, that’s what you get for walking around Greece, eh, _Italien_ ,” Francis calls from the deck. Antonio can’t suppress his glare and retrieves a purse full of coins from his side. He tosses the pouch to Gilbert, who happily snatches it from the air.

  
“Saw a tavern in town. Take some of the boys and have a good time,” Antonio says, tone much more biting than he intends it to be. Neither men seem to notice, Gilbert grinning widely and nodding his thanks. He turns to show off the coin purse, and Francis laughs boisterously. He yells something in French to the deck and receives cheers in response.

  
The deck clears fast after that. The rowdiest of the crew follow Francis’ charge on the sleepy bay town, and the rest hole up below deck for the night. Antonio is thankful for his crew. They are simple, and undramatic and uncomplicated.

  
Unlike Lovino.

  
“ _Ow_!” the cabin boy yelps as Antonio pours alcohol over the wound, flinching away from the splash of the liquid.

  
“You are such a kid!” Antonio teases as he sets the bottle to the side. He presses a clean rag to Lovino’s side, grateful the wound isn’t too deep.

  
“You just aren’t gentle enough, bastard,” Lovino mutters, moving to sit up. He grimaces at the pain and lays back on their bed once more.

  
Because now it was _their_ bed. Not _Antonio’s_ bed. It was _theirs_. That sentiment carried on to the rest of Antonio’s quarters as well. It had become an unspoken agreement. One night, Lovino just stayed. And he kept staying. That was the way it was. The crew had noticed, but no questions were asked. They knew better than to question their captain, and if they had a big enough problem with it, they could just leave.

  
“You weren’t saying that last night,” Antonio purrs, a smirk finding its way to his lips. Lovino blushed, the color blooming through his face slowly as he glares at Antonio. A palm connects with his chest, the slap meaningless and more than anything just something Lovino did when he didn’t know what to say. Antonio always knew he’d won when Lovino resorted to slaps in response to banter.

  
“Hey, come on, _amor_ ,” Antonio sighs, peeking under the now bloodied rag. The bite has stopped bleeding. He wipes up the remaining blood on his lover’s skin and sets the rag on the bedside table. “You are always so mean to me,” the captain sighs as he stands, shrugging his coat from his shoulders and depositing it on a hook nearby. He slips off his boots, and pulls off his shirt, leaving the clothes in a pile. Lovino frowns at it, and Antonio sighs dramatically, picking up the shirt. He folds it up as neatly as he can, setting it on the dresser. He straightens his boots and sets them out of the way.

  
“Is that to your satisfaction, your highness?” Antonio asks as he approaches the bed. He nudges Lovino’s side with a knee until he moves over, and climbs into bed.

  
“Very much so,” Lovino replies, relaxing into the pillows. Antonio studies him for a few moments. The scar across his brow had almost entirely healed. You could only see it in just the right light. Lovino was always getting into little scraps when they docked. Trouble seemed to follow the boy as if it wasn’t obvious by the freak dog attack. Even when relaxing, his thick brows furrow slightly. His long lashes cast shadows across his cheeks in the dim light. Antonio leans over and presses a kiss to the corner of Lovino’s mouth.

  
“What was that for?” he asks quietly, opening his eyes to look at him. Lovino’s lips are curved into a gentle bow, the smile soft and impossibly sweet, especially on Lovino. Antonio can feel something in his chest melt, the warmth of it sending chills across his skin. Before Antonio could think about his next words, he says them.

  
“I love you.”

  
Antonio speaks without thinking far too often, but especially in the presence of Lovino. He said stupid things all the time, and usually, they were inconsequential, and Lovino just called him stupid, and that was the end of it. Not this time.

  
Lovino stares at him blankly for a few, impossibly long moments. Antonio holds his breath. It would look even more stupid to backtrack and stumble over himself to try and make things right.  
Because really, Antonio meant what he said. He’d known since that first night they’d spent together, tangled up and drunk. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to tell Lovino right now, though.  
“I love you, too,” Lovino finally says. He leaves it at that. Lovino can be uncomplicated when he wants to. He wraps his arms around Antonio’s waist and pulls him down into bed.

  
Antonio wants to tell him over and over that, he loves him, loves him, loves him. But he doesn’t. He knows Lovino will only get embarrassed and annoyed if he did. And besides, there was plenty of time for that later.

  
They stay like that, holding each other and silent until their breathing deepens and syncs, and they both slip off into a heavy slumber.


End file.
